


Once Upon A Drabble

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adlock, Almost nsfw, Angst, But not quite, Drabble, Drug Use, Drunkenness, F/M, Innuendo, Minor Violence, Other, Romance, Sadlock, Teenlock, alcohol use, fluff?, i think, post-HLV, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5743300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short fanfics. Mostly adlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's Have Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Teenlock AU - Dinner w/ the family

Sherlock never imagined that one day he'd get him, his brother and The Girl in the same room again. The best part: she was meeting their parents. Mycroft simply sulked and eyed her warily the whole time she ate her fish fillet in peace and grace.

"He has never mentioned you before, why is that?" Mummy asked. Irene smiled thinly, remembering. "Your son and I had a..." she stopped to think of the perfect word to choose, " _fickle_ relationship before finally making up." Mycroft shook his head with dismay. " _Fickle_ ," he mused and sharply stabbed the fish with his knife. His younger brother tried so hard to stop falling to the ground from laughter. "Yes," he said, taking his glass of water, "if you put it that way." She turned to him and looked at him , "But I did get the best side out of him did I?"

"The worst."

"Excuse me?" she questioned to the brother. "I said you brought the worst out of my brother and you continue to do so," Mycroft replied plainly. "Oh shush you," his mother ordered. "He's never been this happy ever since" -she paused before speaking- "well, you both know." His brother went back to sulking.  She continued to talk. "By the way, I didn't know your son loved to dance."

Sherlock choked on his water.

The father chuckled, "Oh he does?" The Girl smiled even more. "He invites me to watch boring dance recitals and has even thought of taking ballet lessons with me." Now it was his brother's turn to smile despite himself. "Ballet, little brother?" Mycroft laughed. Sherlock sank into his seat, trying to hide his scarlet face with his curls. "It was a thought," he spat. His brother wasn't done yet. "Please do tell us about all your rendezvouz together," he said to Irene.

She raised her brow with intrigue. She looked at Sherlock to see his reaction. "You will get under my skin if you do," he warned.

She smirked. "I like the sound of that."

His mother dropped her fork. Silence wrapped around all of them. Irene stayed aloof as if she hasn't said a word.

Mycroft cleared his throat. "Well, I think we've all lost our appetite," he stated and stood up. "Mother, Father, won't you kindly come with me to watch the telly?" They obliged, taken aback by their son's girlfriend's words. As Mycroft led them out of the dining room, he whispered to Sherlock, "You owe me this time."

"How much do I owe, brother mine?"

"Two favours and a hundred quid." He slammed the door behind it. Irene then leaned in closer to Sherlock. "We're finally having dinner together. Alone."

He knew where she wanted to lead this so he stalled, "You left an interesting impression to my parents." She snickered, "Something to think about before going to _bed_." The word rolled off her tongue. "And how do you plan to do that?" he asked.

She had him. "I always have a plan, dear."


	2. The Settee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unilock/Teenlock [I really don't know] AU - A drunk Irene Adler arrives at Sherlock's doorstep.  
> Do listen to Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood. I was inspired because of that.

Sherlock's eyes were shut as he thought about a case Scotland Yard couldn't wrap their mind around. His thought's were only disturbed when he heard footsteps barging into his room. He quickly opened his eyes and saw Irene Adler, drunk.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. She smiled foolishly. "Who knows? Do you? You always do," she babbled. Not wishing to disappoint her, he tried to deduce the reason of her sudden visit. But before he did that, he caught her limping body and laid her on his settee. She continued to mumble. "Is this about your mum?" he asked.

Irene bobbed her head back and forth. "Yup" -emphasizing the p- "Daddy's not allowing me to see her anymore."

"Why doesn't he?"

She looked at him with her blank yet brilliant eyes. "He tells me that I'll just hurt myself when I see her again. I mean, he's right. Why would I want to see my mentally deranged mother?" The sarcasm leaked from that question. "And so you decided get drunk instead of slipping into the night and see her?" he questioned her, crossing his arms.

She grunted. "Don't be _daft_ , Sherlock. I will hurt myself if I see her; I will hurt myself if I don't." He took her hand. She looked at their entangled hands. "Don't do this to yourself," he murmured.

"Why not?" she asked, trying to sound forceful but the alcohol just made her sound weaker. "Because you don't have to," he insisted. "Just tell me how I can help you."

She tried to sit up. "Actually," she said, taking his hand to her nape, "you can." She used her other hand to ungracefully take his hand and crash their lips together.

He shouldn't have been too surprised. He knew what her lips felt like on his but the roughness confused him. She was the type to give the seductive and hypnotizing kisses that made him want more. The kiss she just gave him made him dizzy. His eyes were wide open as she continued to dig her lips into his.

She stopped to take in air and before she could continue, he stopped her. "What are you doing?" he panted. She looked at him as if he were stupid. "I'm kissing you, obviously," she hissed and kissed him roughly again. She took a piece of his shirt and he knew were she was taking this. "Irene... you need... to stop... and think..." he said underneath her lips. "I'm thinking of having you, Sherlock," she finally said "That's all I need." Based on her droopy eyes, he knew she wasn't thinking at all. "This is the alcohol talking, Irene," he explained calmly. She shrugged. "So what? You can have me now and I'll probably forget it in the morning. You will too if you want to. Just have me now please."

He actually contemplated on the thought. He could have her now, take her drunken state as his advantage. Love was a dangerous disadvantage. Lust was a different. She used it to get secrets from her lovers and now he could finally use it on her. She was here, ready to give him anything. But he didn't want anything from her.

He scooted backwards. "I- I can't," he stammered, "I'm sorry." She frowned. "Why?" she questioned him, "Because your a virgin? Because it's a school night?" Her eyes popped open. "I know," she accused, "because you have these sentimental thoughts"- she waved her hand around his face- "that's stopping you." She observed his face that turned stony. "I'm right," she confirmed. She put her hand on his leg and started to trace her finger upwards. He shivered as he eyed her wandering hand. "I'm drunk but I'm not that drunk. You're smart but I don't want you to think about anything else but me." She held on to his leg tighter. She leaned closer and closer to his lips, saying sweet words that enchanted him, mesmerized him.

"Think about me, think of us, _think_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love open endings. I also love teenlock but I'm not sure if this is a teenlock or a unilock. My safest bet is 'school!lock' which sounds and looks bad. This is nearly NSFW. But that's never my territory. Prompts are most appreciated by this bored and uninspired person.


	3. Voicemail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major Sadlock. Major major major major Sadlock.  
> Major Character Death Implied.  
> Loads of sadlock.  
> I'm not even over this.  
> Listen to Supersymmetry by Arcade Fire.

I.  
His phone has been left untouched for months. Anyone who wanted to contact Sherlock Holmes had to dial his telephone number but still he didn't answer them. Three months earlier he had received a voicemail from no other than the Woman herself. He didn't answer. He found himself in the Diogenes Club, in the Stranger's Room with his brother.

"Oh, you've found out," Mycroft told Sherlock nonchalantly. His younger brother heeved in air as reply. "She is certainely and finally dead this time," he said, "but I still wonder why she lived after that affair in Karachi. And why you helped her." Sherlock didn't reply. "This silence of yours won't help you, Sherlock," Mycroft sighed, "you involved yourself with this _woman_ now it's time you pay the price." Sherlock remained voiceless; his brother more impatient. "She is dead, Sherlock," he explained, "We had an operative that went to Monaco after the shooting. Many died that day but those shooters only had one target. They found her body under the alias Selene Harper. We are definitely sure she is deceased."

II.  
A word never escaped from Sherlock's lips since then. He remained still and motionless. In his mind, he raced to find her, _the_ Woman. He found her in an abandoned area of his Mind Palace. Her hair was still carefully coifed; her lips the same bloody red. She wore a simple white dress and her signature shoes. The only thing different was her eyes. He didn't see the same vibrancy. Instead, a swampy look was washed over her face. Like him, she remained motionless and still. She looked at him and they didn't say a word.

III.  
John has been worried of Sherlock. Everytime he tries to speak with his best friend, he is only given this hidden pained look. Sherlock wouldn't tell him anyting, to anyone exactly. He only sat on his chair, eyes shut. He could hear John, Lestrade, Mary, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, everybody say his name but he refused to listen. He didn't need their sympathies. He needed to only see _her_.

Mycroft tries to be the better brother but he can't help being irritated by his brother's sentiments towards _her_.

IV.  
He sat nearest to the door and Irene sat closest to the corner. Her hair was slightly dishevelled and her red lips faded into cracked pink lips. She removed her shoes to reveal her dainty feet. Her eyeshadow's been smudged and she looked older. Her nails were still bright red though. She hasn't said a word and he is afraid that she'll never say a word at all. He's afraid of losing her memory. Now that she was dead, she was nothing. He didn't want that. He knew he didn't need her anymore but he never left that room, afraid that his mind will simply delete her like every unimportant file he had.

"Don't be _daft_ , Sherlock."

Her voice brightened the room.

"I'm dead but I'm not dead for you."

Her eyes bore into his.

"Oh Sherlock," she breathed, "what are you going to do without me?"

V.  
His old phone has been left untouched for a year. He placed it next to her discarded camera phone. He has spoken to John and the rest. He didn't say the part where he mourned internally. He shrugged away all their 'sorry's and 'it's okay's.

VI.  
He finally found the courage to play the voicemail. He sat underneath the frame of the door. Ever since, the room shrank and shrank until only one person could fit. And that was the Woman. He watched her and she watched him. She waited for him. And he played her message.

It wasn't her voice that he heard. Sounds of bullets crashing in and wailing people were audible. He heard dashing footsteps and a closing door. A voice [a female's] heeved in air rapidly until she finally calmed herself. She found herself saying the three words _I love you_. It rippled into his ears and into his mind.

_I love you._

He didn't believe her.

_I love you._

This time the Irene Adler that stood in the small space said it.

_I love you._

She wasn't wearing makeup. She wore normal clothes. She looked safe.

_I love you._

It was like that day he found her sleeping soundly on his bed.

_I love you._

VII.  
He finally spilled the tears that was left in reserve for a year. He saved her final message and played it again and again.

 _I love you. I love you._  
_I love you. I love you._

He didn't let go of her words. He alone knew her last words. He alone could be alone with her once more as long as he had her in his head. He alone could be loved by The Woman.

He hugged his arms and imagined that she was hugging him, whispering to him her words.

_I love you._

She could only exist if he was alive. Once he died, her memory too is lost. And that was his new driving force to stay alive.

_I love you._

He finally smiled sincerely after everything.

_I love you too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know where this came from. I apologize for not knowing how voicemails work. Did I get it right? Yeah Sadlock. I'm not over this yet. I apologize for this chapter. Way too weird. Way too TAB. No offense. Or you can take the offense. Yeah weird chapter. I bet it isn't even sad for some. Sad for me though. Prompts are always warmly welcomed. My tumblr is ladyoflovelace and it has less sadder stuff. More random to be precise and concise.


	4. High Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During one of his sessions, Sherlock meets her in his usual back alley and he doesn't know how she got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously inspired by the Arctic Monkeys song, Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

Sherlock’s vision may be blurred because of his session of his favorite paraphernalia; nonetheless, it was clear to him that the person standing in front of him was none other than Irene Adler. He couldn’t read her face.

 _It must be the cocaine,_ he thought, _or was it morphine? Both? Something else?_

“Ah!” the sound escaped from his mouth. _I understand why she’s here_ , he said in his head. He tried to stand up. His legs were wobbly. His head was throbbing. “Why am I here?” she asked him. _This is a good high_ , he thought. Her eyebrow rose.

“How so?”

 _She’s here. This_ has _been good high. Now, I’m just have to figure out what I took._

She raised a piece of paper. He narrowed his eyes in the dark. He recognized the writing. He can’t seem to read what’s written though. _That’s mine._ He tried grabbing it but he was too slow. She shoved the list in her coat pocket. “Yes,” she replied, “and this is for you.” And she punched him in the face, right on the cheekbone.

_That feels too real. What’s going on?_

She replied once more, “Of course I’m real, Sherlock. I’m not a figment of your strange imagination.”

_How can you hear me?_

“Because you’re talking out loud, Sherlock. Snap out of it.”

“I wasn’t talking out loud at all.”

She placed her hands on her hips.

“Oh.”

“Time to go, Sherlock.”

“I’m not yet done and I'm not going anywhere.”

“No, I wasn’t asking for your consent there.”

She punched him again, this time knocking him out.

 

Sherlock woke up in his brother’s guest bedroom. His head still hurt but his face ached more. “Mycroft!” he called out.

His brother came in, wearing one of his usual suits. “Yes, Sherlock?” he asked, sounding exasperated.

“How did I get here?”

“She brought you here. She texted me and I found you at my doorstep, dozing off.”

“And by _she_ , you mean-“

“Yes, your _girlfriend_ or whatever you call her.”

“She isn’t my-“

“I don’t care. You’re here now, safe and sound. _And,_ away from these-“ motioning to the syringe in his hand.

“That’s mine.”

“Not anymore, Sherlock. You’re taking a break from these.” He exited the room. “You can’t stop me and you know that!” his younger brother yelled to him. There wasn’t any reply. He tried falling asleep again when he heard an obnoxiously lewd sound coming from his phone. He turned his head to it. It was a text from her.

It said: “Why do you only call me when you’re high?”

He replied to it: “Do I?”

It replied: “Yes, every time you have a good high.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no experience with drugs so obviously I am not exactly sure how a drugged up Sherlock would act. That's why I didn't really indicate what kind of drug he used. I did say 'cocaine' and 'morphine' but he doesn't even know what he just used. Also, I sort of mirrored this to that ASiB scene. Took me a while to squeeze out a story from my brain. Which is exactly why you should send me a prompt or idea. My tumblr is theladyoflovelace with the word 'the' at the beginning. Send me here or there to inspire this poor sucker.


	5. []

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock receives a message from The Woman. And it's urgent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt [from a friend] : use this question "How desperate are you to save someone you love?"  
> Thank you again for the prompt!

It was a normal Wednesday afternoon [for Sherlock, it was a boring afternoon]. No cases, no Lestrade. John finally visited his sister and Mrs. Hudson was busy with her own things.

So Sherlock was left alone.

He tried to sleep and waste time.

He tried reading and criticizing John’s blog.

He tried reciting playing every song he knew with the violin.

Halfway through repeating ‘Happy Birthday’ for the third time [and in a different chord], his phone buzzed and with sharp movements, he took it. The message was from-

“The Woman?”

It said:

**HELP. I can see Parliament. No sun. Work out where I am. Please. IA.**

He didn’t think twice. Taking his coat [and surprisingly forgetting his scarf], he dashed out of the flat.

“Taxi!”

He bit his knuckle. He knew where she was. He was already thinking of what he was planning to do with her captors.

Once the taxi stopped, he quickly left [but before that, paid the cabbie and didn’t get the change]. He raced to the door [and he didn’t even open it. He just slammed the right side of his body towards it.] Racing John’s gun [which he took from John’s locked room _and_ desk], he walked slowly and quietly until he saw a man’s figure. He took the man by his collar and [almost like an animal] demanded where they kept her.

The man couldn’t do anything so he led Sherlock [with a gun pointed at the back of his neck]. He slowly unlocked a door to a room. Sherlock pushed him aside [harshly] and stormed into the dingy room, only to find his older brother sitting on a chair in the middle of the room.

Mycroft looked at his watch. “4 minutes and 2 seconds,” he said. He raised his brow. “I underestimated you. I said 6 at most. John said 3. Anthea said 4. Well, that was a bet I wasn’t prepared to lose. Especially to a PA”

Sherlock heaved in air [only now did he realise he was out of breath]. _Bet, 4 minutes, that bloody **please** at the end of the message?_

“What the hell was this for?” he questioned [only did he now feel the cold air around his neck]. He flipped up his collar. Mycroft laughed, “Brother mine, did you forget that scarf for that woman? My, my, I did underestimate you. But to be fair, John overestimated your capabilities and sentiments for her.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“This was just a test, that’s all. Thank you for participating.”

“I came all this way for nothing?”

[His brother paused.] “Not at all, brother dear.”

Sherlock left without a word. Mycroft’s phone buzzed. He looked at the message:

**You owe me a day-off, sir.**

He sighed heavily.

 

Sherlock received his own text once he was back at Baker Street. It read:

**Congratulations. You did well today. Let’s have dinner. IA.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun making this. Hope you aren't disappointed. Q/A:  
> Q: Why the excessive/obvious use of the []?  
> A: The tiny moments inside the [] are those details that actually make the scene deeper. If you read the whole thing again without the text inside them, then the whole chapter will be a simple narrative. I wanted to sort of replicate television or film where in the smallest movement or gesture changes a character and stuff.   
> Prompts are well appreciated [take example the wall of text that you've just read above.] My tumblr is 'theladyoflovelace'. See you there [if you ever drop by].

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting in A03. Comments and stuff are appreciated. You can send prompts because I get bored and uninspired. My tumblr is theladyoflovelace. You can check it out. It has tons of nonsense.


End file.
